


Night Drive Turned Nightmare

by thatonecrazydramakid



Series: Love, Spierfeld (AKA All Love, Simon/SvtHSA fics) [4]
Category: Love Simon (2018), Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Blood, F/M, M/M, Random Character Death (No One We Know), Some minor violence, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 22:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21435784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatonecrazydramakid/pseuds/thatonecrazydramakid
Summary: It was supposed to be just a night drive, nothing else. It wasn’t supposed to be this. They weren’t supposed to be driving on that road—he knew they were banned, knew his dad’s friend had a reason for forbidding his own family from driving that road. He didn’t know why he decided not to listen.And yet, he and Bram had. And now, they were paying the consequences.
Relationships: Bram Greenfeld & Jack Spier, Bram Greenfeld/Simon Spier, Emily Spier/Jack Spier, Jack Spier & Simon Spier
Series: Love, Spierfeld (AKA All Love, Simon/SvtHSA fics) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1617802
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Night Drive Turned Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this was going to be about a shooting during Pride Month but I decided against it. Instead, we get this. TWs for car crashes, blood, hospitals, major character injuries, minor character death, Martin Addison (mentions of), TBA. Written over the course of a single period instead of doing my English work (aka earlier than Cookies was written).  
The road is fictional, based on the 154 in California (long story about why I’m using it). I'm probably going way overboard with the Archive Warnings, but honestly I'm just trying to be careful and I wasn't super sure. Also, there was a chicken on my lawn this morning and I don’t know why or where it went, but I don’t own a chicken.

It was November 13, and Simon had no idea what had gone wrong.

The day had started as hell and progressively gotten worse. The chat had blown up about something—he didn’t know what he said or what he had done wrong, but all of a sudden Abby and Leah and Nick were screaming about him about last year, about how much he had screwed up and what he’d done to him. He’d gone over the texts several thousand times, still couldn’t understand what he had said.

He’d just asked about Martin.

Recently, the young man had gotten into a bad crash. He was still in the municipal hospital, and no one knew how badly he was injured. The other driver had been killed. It was on the 308 road.

A few minutes after his friends’ blow-up, Simon turned off his phone and drove to pick up Bram without another word. Bram had come along, sat in the passenger’s seat of a car they usually had filled. He didn’t know when they ended up on the 308, just that they had and now they were driving.

In the night fog, everything seemed deathly quiet. He could barely see anything until it whipped past—street signs, hazard warnings about curves, even a few deer. Neither of them said anything, allowing the silence enveloping the outside world to permeate the space between them, to leave it silent. Occasionally, it was punched through by Simon trying to clear his throat or wipe the tears away from his eyes. There was no plan—he wasn’t going anywhere in particular.

He just drove.

Eventually, they hit a long stretch of road, and Bram shattered the silence with three quiet words. “You okay, Simon?”

Glancing over at him, eyes red from crying for hours, Simon hesitated to reply. “I don’t really know.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” Silence fell across them both, and Simon could feel his boyfriend’s eyes boring into him. “Bram, I’m not going to always want to talk about this kind of stuff. You know that already.”

“I know. I don’t like seeing you upset.” After a little while, he added, “Does this have anything to do with Martin?”

“No!” Simon snapped his head around to send a glare his way, and Bram held up his hands. After a second, he sighed, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t snap at you. I just—it feels like everything goes wrong when it comes to Martin.”

“Does this have anything to do with the group chat?” The hesitance to answer seemed to be all Bram needed. “Your friends are jerks.”

“They are not.”

“You got blackmailed, bullied, and abandoned, and _you’re _the one who has to apologise? I’m not saying what you did was right, exactly, but it doesn’t seem fair that they didn’t apologise to you for what _they _did.” Crossing his arms, Bram glanced out the window. “I mean, come on, Simon. They _let _you get treated that way and didn’t even bother to stand up to those—”

“Neither did you, though.”

“Yeah, and I was wrong for that, but—” Bram’s eyes darted ahead and he yelled, “Simon, look out!”

Simon glanced ahead as the headlights of something shone down on them—someone was driving on their side of the road. Jerking the wheel to the side, he felt the car start skidding on the asphalt. There was a screeching noise, and then a loud crunch from the driver’s side, and they were thrown to the right.

When he opened his eyes, he was thrown against the wheel, stomach throbbing with pain. Gasping, he glanced over to see Bram slumped against the seat, unconscious. “Bram…” Reaching over, Simon gently shook his shoulder. Bram let out a groan.

Outside, there was more screeching, and Simon jerked upright to see a truck bearing down on them. _No. No, no, no. _Scrambling for the keys, he tried to turn their car on. With a sputtering sound oddly like a dying cow, the engine crackled to life and then died abruptly.

Glancing back at the truck, Simon closed his eyes and braced for impact.

~~~

It was the dead of night, and the phone was ringing.

Hauling himself out of bed, Jack stumbled over to where he’d left it and picked up. “Hello?”

“Jack, is Simon home?” It was Bram’s stepmother, and she sounded frantic. Immediately, Jack was awake, and he shuffled through the house. Bieber circled his legs, panting nervously, as he made his way to his son’s bedroom. Throwing the door open, he found the room empty. Sitting on the desk was Simon’s phone, turned off and charging.

“No, he’s not. Why, what happened?”

“He picked up Bram about two hours ago and they still aren’t back. You don’t think they could be—”

“No, Simon’s too good a kid to run away. I’m sure they’ll be—” Jack paused when he noticed a note in scribbled handwriting by the phone. Picking it up, he scanned over the lines. “They’ve been gone for two hours?”   
“Yes.” Taking a few breaths, she continued, “Jack, do you think-“

“Does Bram have his phone with him?” The question seemed to take her aback. “If he does, call him. See if you can find out where he is.”

Outside, an ambulance raced by, sirens blaring. “Why? Do you think they’re okay?” She asked, and he glanced out Simon’s bedroom window.

“Because I have a feeling I know where they are.”

~~~

When Simon came to, something cold and wet was landing on his cheek.

Cracking his eyes open with a groan, he realised it was snow. Everything was being tugged sideways, and it was blurry. Glancing down, he saw the dim shape of his glasses sitting in a pool of red on the side window. Next to them was the fuzzy shape of Bram.

“Bram?” He tried to reach up, but something stopped him. Rivulets of some hot, sticky liquid were running down his side and arm, and as he woke up more, a throbbing pain began to increase in his stomach. Fractured pieces of what used to be the steering wheel were embedded in his stomach. _That can’t be good._ “Bram!”

The young man jerked awake with a groan and opened his eyes. “Simon? What…what happened?” Lifting his head, he reached up to touch his temples. His eyes landed on Simon and immediately he freaked out. “Oh my gosh, Simon, what—”

“I know, I know. Just—just see if you can call someone, okay? Where’s your phone?” Bram started doing something and pulled out his phone. Simon, meanwhile, looked around to try and figure out what was going on.

The car had flipped sideways, somehow, and there was something blocking the windshield. Snow was filtering in through the shattered window, and there was glass everywhere. His right arm was pinned to his side, a piece of the dashboard driven into his upper arm. Somehow, it hadn’t killed him yet. His left arm was free.

Abruptly, something outside the car shifted, and the pressure on his stomach increased exponentially. Letting out a pained scream, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block it out. Black spots started to dance in his vision and everything narrowed down all of a sudden.

Everything faded out all of a sudden.

~~~

When Jack arrived to the scene of the site, he ran out through the snow with no care for his own personal safety. An ambulance was already on-scene, and the paramedics were racing from car to car. One, a reddish SUV, was thrown on its roof in a ditch. After a few heart-wrenching moments, Jack realised it wasn’t Simon’s.

But the one beside it was.

Charging over, he leapt on top of the side and peered in. Sitting in the driver’s seat, eyes lightly closed, was Simon. In the passenger’s seat, alive and conscious, was Bram. “How is he?” Jack demanded, and Bram stammered out the answer.

Neither of them looked the best. Bram was covered in blood, the cracked halves of Simon’s glasses sitting next to him in a puddle of blood on the window. Simon’s neck, side, and arm were all caked in the liquid, pink-stained snow decorating his cheeks and throat. His shirt was soaked through, and for a few terrifying moments Jack couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

“He-he passed out a while ago. I don’t know why. But Jack—the steering wheel—it’s in his stomach.” Grabbing at the window edge, Jack started wrenching at the door. It started creaking, glass cutting into his palms, and his eyes narrowed. This piece of scrap was _not _going to stop him from getting to his son. “Jack?”

Wrapping his hands around the frame of the door, Jack started jerking at it like a wild animal. Whether it was already weak from the crash or the adrenaline had pushed his strength to superhuman, he wasn’t sure. With a loud _crunch_, the door fell into his hands, and he cast it aside without a car. Some of the paramedics came running up, and he saw a helicopter landing.

“Sir, I need you to—”

“This is my son—don’t even _think _I’m going to leave him here.” Jack snarled, reaching in and touching Simon’s face. His eyes twitched, face contorting in pain. “Hold on, bud, we’re going to get you out of here soon, I promise.”

“Sir, please, I need to get a better look at him.” Glancing at Simon and the paramedic, Jack took a deep breath and stepped back. The paramedic hopped up next to him and started taking in everything they could about Simon and Bram.

Everything seemed to blur together. One moment, Simon was still trapped inside the car. The next, the paramedics had strapped him onto a gurney, and were currently helping Bram out of the car to his own. Jack went to Simon, heart pounding. “Don’t worry, sir, we’ll get him the best medical care we can.”

Numbly, Jack nodded, and he watched until the helicopter was out of view, carrying Simon in its belly, to head back to the car and pull out his phone.

~~~

It took three days for Simon to wake up after a sixteen-hour surgery.

When he finally woke up, he was curled in a hospital bed. Next to him, Bram was sleeping with his head resting next to Simon’s hand, fingers interlaced with his non-IV’d hand. His stepmother had dragged a chair over next to him and was stroking his hair. Bram’s left shoulder was wrapped up, and Simon saw the tiniest glimpse of a cast around his right knee.

He wasn’t in the best shape himself. Thick bandages were wrapped around the stitches in his stomach and solar plexus. The doctors had commented he was lucky to survive, that he had endured severe lacerations to his liver, stomach, intestines, and about three other major organs. One of his lungs had collapsed from the force of the dashboard being driven into his body.

According to them, the shards of the steering wheel post (no one knew how the wheel itself had been ripped from its post) had missed killing him by a very small margin. If they had managed to reach his spine, he would have been killed. When he found this out himself, he had broken down sobbing.

Sitting off to his right was his own family, Alice and Nora and Jack and Emily. They’d pulled chairs over and stayed as long as they were allowed, much to the concern of half the hospital staff.

“I’m guessing you never want me to drive again?” Simon joked, meeting his father’s gaze and smiled weakly.

Jack bit his lower lip. “You’re banned from the 308. I don’t care why you would be taking it, but I never want you to take the 308 unless you have no other choice. Other than that…I’m not sure. I’m still figuring out whether or not I’m more angry or scared.”

“What about the other drivers?” Simon had asked. No one had answered at first. When they finally spoke again, his face fell.

“There were six drivers involved in the crash, probably eighteen or nineteen people involved. One of the drivers died, three of the passengers, but everyone else seems to have survived.” Smiling, Jack ruffled Simon’s hair and cupped his cheek. “It’s not your fault, bud.” Numbly, Simon nodded once.

Bram jerked awake next to him, and everyone glanced over at him. “Hey, Bram.” He mumbled, and Bram’s eyes lit up. “I’m guessing you’re feeling well?”

Jumping up, Bram wrapped his arms around Simon and pulled him close, ignoring everyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> SORRY FOR THE ENDING ANYWAYS GO CHECK OUT COOKIES IT MIGHT MAKE UP FOR THIS IN SOME WAY IF NOT I APOLOGISE OKAY GOTTA GO LOVE YA BYE!!!!


End file.
